


Unconditional

by Twilight Fang (Asthenos)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 09:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8322082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asthenos/pseuds/Twilight%20Fang
Summary: Stiles is a mess and in a dark place after what happened in Season 5, episode 5, and the only one who may be able to help him get through it is Derek.  This is just a short fic that was inspired by that particular episode.





	

**Author's Note:**

> After the traumatic experience that Stiles went through, I think that having Derek come back would have been very helpful for the healing process.

Stiles folded his arms tightly in front of his chest and glared out at the muted lights of Beacon Hills. They were sprinkled over the little town here and there, making it seem like Stiles was looking down at a miniature Christmas display that needed new batteries. Maybe the lights were so few and dim because people nowadays were all for saving energy and respecting the environment. Or maybe it was because there were less citizens to go around. Considering the recent number of deaths, and the generalized public terror over the increased number of monster sightings, it was most definitely the latter. The townsfolk were beginning to catch on. With every new _monster_ sighting, many new interesting and creative theories cropped up with it. What had previously passed off as a cougar was now quite possibly a mutated bear that had crept too close to the nuclear power plant. Power blackouts were no longer the fault of the electric company. Now there was speculation about a secret government agency siphoning the town’s energy supply to conduct its experiments out in the woods.

 

Beacon Hills was becoming less like a beacon and more like a repellent of anything good and sane by the day.

 

“I still don’t get why you came back.” Stiles avoided looking to his right, where he knew Derek to be. The wolf was so still and silent, most likely observing him and wondering what the problem was. The problem that Scott had obviously blabbed about.

 

“Scott said you were going through a rough time, so…” The tail-end of Derek’s words got rustled by the wind, and the sound of a car blowing its horn off in the distance.

 

“So you rushed all the way back here from Mexico to check up on me?” Stiles snickered. “You shouldn’t have wasted the airfare.” Although unexpected, Derek’s little visitation was actually quite welcome. He had put this off for far too long. It was better to do it face-to-face anyhow, so that there would be no misunderstandings. He just needed to break it off cleanly with Derek, leaving nothing for the wolf to hold onto. _His_ wolf. Or his soon-to-be ex-wolf. “I’m sure that whatever Scott told you was self-explanatory. And even if it hadn’t been, you could’ve asked him for clarification. Everyone does these things over the net nowadays, you know.”

 

For a few heartbeats, there was silence. Except there wasn’t. Stiles could hear Derek breathing a little louder, could see him fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. “Actually, Scott never told me what was wrong. He just said that I needed to come back, so…”

 

So Scott hadn’t said anything? Stiles almost felt like hugging Scott for a moment, until his mind switched back into a higher gear and he felt himself getting angry all over again. Now he would have to be the one to explain things to Derek. To tell him how he was damaged and rotten on the inside, not that he was looking much better on the outside. When he’d had the night terrors during the nogitsune mess, he’d been an emotional wreck. But now he just suffered from straight-up insomnia and an overactive imagination. There were dark circles under his eyes from a lack of sleep, and lines around both his eyes and mouth from scowling so much. Whereas before he used to greet friends and family with a carefree smile or a grin, now he glared first and let someone else ask the questions. And he kept his mouth shut because that way he wouldn’t be caught voicing some of his darker thoughts, or his regrets. Recently he found himself always thinking _what if?_

_What if I hadn’t pissed off Theo?_

_What if I had kept the jeep in optimal running condition?_ So that he wouldn’t have been fooling around under the hood of it when Donovan had snuck up on him that fateful night.

 

 _What if I hadn’t killed Donovan?_ Or better yet, what if he had taken care of the body afterwards so that Theo wouldn’t have had anything to blackmail him with. So many accursed alternate scenarios that could have played out instead of the failure of the one that he was currently being forced to continue living in.

 

“Stiles?”

 

Derek had such a non-judgmental voice. Especially when it came to Stiles. If his wolf had been around during the whole _Dread Doctors_ sadistic episode of Frankenstein meets illegal cloning, Stiles could imagine how that would’ve turned out. Derek probably would have been the first test subject used in the Dread Doctors’ experiments, if he had chosen to return to Beacon Hills instead of doing some kind of soul searching in Mexico. His wolf was always the one who got abducted, tortured, and experimented on. If anything could have driven Stiles to murder, the thought of Derek enduring one more round of electric shocks would probably have done it. He hadn’t intended to kill Donovan though. It had just _happened._

 

“We can’t see each other anymore, Derek. I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

 

“ _What?”_   Walking across broken glass wouldn’t have been as painful as listening to the confusion and hurt in Derek’s voice. “Why would you say such a thing, Stiles? When we spoke on the phone--.”

 

“I _killed_ someone, Derek,” Stiles spat the words out, not caring that he hadn’t buffered the shocking news with a little intro on how things had led up to the _accidental_ murder. “A kid my age is dead because of me.”

 

After a short pause, Derek spoke again with just as much conviction as he usually did when he was supporting something that Stiles believed in. “That’s awful, Stiles… and I wish I had been here for you, but I believe that you never would have killed anyone on purpose. And that’s no reason to break up with me.”

 

“Geez! You just don’t get it, do you?! There is nothing but darkness in my soul and in my heart now. Just a veil of blackness. There is _no room_ for you anymore. Not in my heart, and not in my life!” Because he didn’t deserve Derek, not when he was like this. Not after he’d taken a life and felt relief and retribution instead of guilt and remorse. And the worst part – the sickest part – was that he would kill Donovan all over again if put into that position again. He would kill anyone in order to save his own life or that of his father’s. Or especially Derek’s. He just couldn’t _be_ with Derek. He didn’t want to be the one responsible for corrupting Derek’s already wounded soul, or for making his life anymore complicated than it already was. Derek had already been forced to kill his first true love, and then Boyd, and there wasn’t one night that went by that his wolf didn’t suffer for those deaths. Stiles knew the burden that Derek carried inside of him, because he was the one who held the wolf as he screamed through his own nightmares at night. If Derek were forced to carry any more additional deaths on his conscience, it would break him for sure.

 

“Stiles, _please_ ,” Derek pleaded, grabbing Stiles by his shoulders to turn him around. “There is nothing you can do or say that would make me stop loving you.”

 

Stiles smiled sadly at Derek, his dark and handsome wolf with those gorgeous sad green eyes and that incredibly attractive angsty frown of his that begged to be kissed. “I don’t love you anymore,” he said coldly, forcing himself to watch his wolf shatter before him. “And I don’t want you anymore.” Although he kept his expression impenetrable on the outside, on the inside he felt his heart splinter into a million pieces when his wolf’s eyes filled with tears and his lower lip began to tremble. “Just get out of my sight,” he said cruelly, turning away when he heard what sounded like a sob escape Derek. And then he heard the sound of footsteps tearing through the woods as Derek ran from him, probably desperate to get away from the bastard that he had become.

 

It would be better this way. Derek would be better off without him. Derek could be someone else’s wolf. Someone with an untainted soul, their hands free from the blood that Stiles’ were covered with. So, if this was supposed to be better for Derek, why did Stiles feel like he had just run over a helpless deer and then gotten out of his jeep to kick it?

 

From a distance, Stiles could hear the crackling of leaves as Derek made his way to the main road, moving a lot slower now, probably too upset to tell the difference between east and west. And the further away he got, the worse Stiles began to feel – a familiar pang of worry building up inside of him until he couldn’t take it anymore. Whether Derek was still his wolf or not, he had to make sure that Derek made it to his car okay. He owed him that much.

 

Stiles trudged through the forest, following the haphazard path that Derek had carved between trees and through patches of leaves. He could barely make out the wolf up ahead. Derek’s head was down and his shoulders hunched forward, and _shit_ , it looked like he was crying pretty heavily. He wasn’t even walking straight. _What have I done?_ Why would Derek be upset over breaking up with a murderer? Why did he continue to love Stiles after what Stiles had said to him?

 

At the side of the road, Derek took one step onto the asphalt, and then another, covering his face with both hands and not watching where he was going. Stiles spotted the truck first, barreling down the road without its lights on at an incredibly dangerous speed. But Derek was so distraught that he didn’t see or hear the truck, taking another step onto the road instead of one step back.

 

“DEREK!” Stiles dashed forward in a wild panic, crashing through piles of leaves, snapping branches with his flailing arms and legs as he raced for his lover. Finally, Derek looked up, his face wet with tears and his expression lost in misery, but he was too stunned to move. Or maybe Stiles had pushed him to a point where he no longer cared. Covering the last few meters between himself and Derek, Stiles launched himself at his wolf, grabbed him around the waist, and yanked him back hard. His foot twisted and slipped on the mud covering the side of the road, and they both ended up falling in a heap in the ditch, bruised and terrified, but otherwise alive. And the truck sailed past at an alarming speed, oblivious to the two young men it had almost mowed down. “Shit,” Stiles cursed tearfully, combing his hands over Derek’s body, checking him for injuries. “Derek, are you hurt? Oh God, I’m so sorry.” What the hell had he been thinking? He was basically responsible for chasing his wolf out into traffic and endangering his life when his goal all along had been to protect it.

 

“Stiles?” Derek looked up at Stiles from where he had fallen, wet tears tracking down his cheeks and into his dark beard. But instead of appearing angry or scared, he tugged on Stiles’ wrist, trying to get him to touch his face. “You still want me, right? Please don’t leave me, Stiles. You promised you wouldn’t.”

 

Against his better judgment, Stiles touched Derek’s face, stroking his thumb over the wolfish beard that he adored so much, and then the soft lips that he enjoyed kissing for hours at a time. “I’m no good for you anymore,” he protested. “Look at what I did! I almost got you killed.”

 

“I don’t care who you killed, Stiles. I still love you. I’ll _always_ love you.”

 

Why were things so simple with Derek? How could he still love Stiles after all he had done? But there was no denying the power of Derek’s emotions because his wolf was lying beneath him in that muddy ditch, grabbing for him, crying for him. Derek would not judge him for what he had done – ever. Derek would love him, no matter what. How could Stiles offer Derek anything less?

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Stiles whimpered, unable to stop the tears from filling his own eyes as he wrapped his arms around his wolf and held him tightly. “I don’t deserve you, Derek.”

 

“You do, because you love me,” Derek insisted, burying his face into Stiles’ shoulder and breathing in his scent deeply. “You promised to never leave me,” he repeated, needing to hear reassurances, especially after the horrible things that Stiles had said to him.

 

“I promise, I’ll never leave you. I love you, Derek.” Stiles kissed his wolf gently on the lips, breaking off when they both started to cry. “I’m so screwed up inside, Derek. I can’t be the same person I was before I killed that kid.”

 

“I’ll love the new you as much as the old you,” Derek promised. “You’re still my Stiles. We’ll get through this together… but please don’t say that you don’t want me anymore. It would be better if you just kicked me… but please don’t say anything like that again.”

 

“I’m never going to kick you, or hurt you like that ever again.” Stiles squeezed Derek even tighter, hating himself for the idiot that he often tended to be, but loving his wolf for being the gentle, forgiving creature that he had given his heart to.


End file.
